Wednesday, April 9, 2008

I procrastinated for a day before ringing Shaniqua( not real name! sic), but she still sounded happy enough to hear from me. We arranged to go out the following night. Dinner not having worked out too well before, we decided to go and see a a show this time. Kci & Jojo.

In a masterpiece of planning, I neglected to buy tickets beforehand, and when we drove out to the venue we found that the gig had a total of 12 losers in attendance thanks to out tropical rains.

Seeing as I wasnt about to join some lame folk, we walked back to my bike at a safe thirty-nine centimetres apart. "What do we do now?" she asked.

How about strip naked and make love on the back seat just to sate my animal lust?

"How about we go into Cineplex and see a movie?" I suggested. Okay, she said, and I rode back into town.

Sandra bought a giant tub of popcorn and a big watery Coke at the popcorn-and-watery-Coke shop in the foyer, and then we strolled along to Cinema Three and plunged into the gloom. At that instant I realised what a ghastly blunder I had made. I hardly knew her and we were going to a movie together. I'd be sitting next to her not knowing what the hell to do with my arms.

And so it turned out. It was like I was fourteen and clueless—thanks to not having been on a date in ages. Okay: to be honest, u never had much experience of this kind of thing once u stop doing it. I forgotten the moves. And if I knew them, I couldn't bring myself to try them. The "yawn and stretch" seemed too obvious a way to get my arm around her, and I didn't have any other flashes of inspiration.

At first, figuring I had a whole movie's worth of time to manoeuvre in, I was fairly calm. I watched the advertising slides with an equanimity that usually escapes me when the ads are showing. And I didn't even flinch when the idiot up the back who was flyin popcorn through the air managed to crack me on the skull with one. I don't think Sandra noticed, because she was watching the trailers as intently and quietly as I was.

But when the main feature came on, things got no better. My mind was busy testing out options for amorous advances, like a chess computer calculating the ramifications of each particular move for the next twenty rounds of play. My calculations always seemed to end with "Black slaps White in the face and storms out of the theatre; checkmate", so I wasn't getting very far.

Now and then I would dart a glimpse at Sandra, hoping that I might catch her staring at me with adoration, which would certainly make things easier—but she watched the screen as if she was going to be tested afterwards for her recall of insignificant costume details. Worse still, my complete lack of peripheral vision—I need start waering spectacles—meant that every stolen glimpse of Sandra became a major exercise in camouflage and logistics. I couldn't just turn and stare for fear of being too obvious about it, so I had to ease my head and neck through a slow pan to the right until she came into view. Or I'd have to turn obviously but distractedly as if attending to an irritating itch or a stray Jaffa bullet. If Sandra had been watching, she'd have thought I had some kind of nervous tic, or that I'd been taking some serious hallucinogens or extascy.

Why, I agonised, are these historical costume dramas so bloody long?

Three hours I was stuck there, sweating, straitjacketed, my limbs beginning to ache, my mind exploring dozens of alternative universes in which Sandra and I were snogging throughout the movie, or Sandra was humiliating me in a public cinema with a can of Mace and a well-timed scream for the police.

By the end of the film I'd achieved the sum total of zilch: for all the bodily-contact we'd had, I might as well have been sitting next to a Hell's Angel who was carrying a cricket bat and wearing an expression that said "You touch me, you die"..

Monday, April 7, 2008

I can see you, you know. I can see you staring at me from across the party, pretending that you're not. Pretending that you don't even notice I'm here. I know that you have me well within the limits of your periph, keeping the ever-watchful eye on me no matter what you do. I can tell what you're thinking, you want me- NAY, you NEED me. I watch as you pretend to survey the room when in actuality you're just using that as an excuse to glance at me, even for just a moment. I know what you're doing.

You, my lady, are eye fucking the shit out of me.

You know that I've been drinking for a while now, just like I know how you're waiting until I'm drunk enough to make some bad decisions before you make your move.

Naughty.

I'll play your game, you minx. I'll deftly brush up against you as I pass you in the hallway. Is it wide enough to pass through without rubbing up against you? Sure, I guess there probably is enough room, but that isn't what you'd want me to do. I can tell. It's all just part of your cat and mouse game. Like when you were dancing earlier. You think I didn't realize you chose to start dancing to my favorite song? It was so sweet of you.

I expect for you to make your move any minute now since it is getting kind of late and the party is starting to thin out. Everything so far has gone exactly how you must've planned, and now, my dear, is the time for the lioness to go after her prey. I see that you have your coat now; you must be getting ready to see if you can go home with me. Oh, this is rich; you're pretending that you are leaving. Oh my dear, when will these games end? I know that any second you'll come back in, ready to make your intentions clear to me. Any second now. Oh, you are good....

lol! Okay okay, I really shouldn't be laughing about this. So started my saturday night in my room, I took a stroll to the grocery store to do some last minute "saturday-shopping" for my place, that I had forgotten to pick up earlier in the day. Then she smiled at me. I tried to look away but the thought of her company through the night seemed to draw me closer and in no time I was by her side, feeling her body. A bottle of Vodka. I couldn't fight the allure, as she seduced me, swimming from side to side in her bottle, shaking what her momma gave her and leaving me licking my lips, my mind wild with imagination on what me and her could do! I paid. She was mine. The rest of my groceries were shipped into paperbags, but you, Ms. Vodka, my love for tonight, I craddled in my arms as I walked back to my room, humming her a tune! Some shower gel, a taxi and an entrance fee found me seated by the bar, "one red bull please, on the rocks with a double lime, if you may!" Time to undress! Slowly, I peeled off her bottle top, and she let me smell her, aahh ... a promise of good things to come! Out she came, not at me, but into my glass of red limey bull and together swam. A few minutes, None of my mates had shown up, and with half the glass, a dancefloor and a number of unexplainable smiles on my face ... I took one look at her and she smiled back, still shaking what her momma gave her in the glass and we hit the Dancefloor! To the causal watcher, I presume I seemed atmost odd .. just there smiling away, dancing away and not giving a flying fuck! The beauty of alcoholic intoxication and a an open mind. A high. But like a beautiful rose, she is not lacking of her thorns. Last I recall, Ms. Vodka had stealthly crept into my head ... still seducing me ... whsipering about how I needed to meet her friends ... and that they were willing to meet me ... so what the heck ... I ordered round, after round, after round! Its still etched somewhere in my memory about the time the bar closed and it was time to hit the road. How I met this 2nd seductress, I recall, she was standing there and there were no more cabs. Being the gallant gentleman I pretend to be, I asked her where she was headed and ahoy, she was off to our nieghbourhood! Hope right in, why don' cha'? I said. I don't see why not? She obeyed. Richard was the first to jump out, she was next and lastly, yours truely. But first, The near rape. I have recurring memories of her asking, suggesting and even pleading (I wonder...haha) That I should go stay the rest of the night at her place! BiNGO!! Even Ms. Vodka and her mates, who were still all over my head, swirled out of the way and I got or acted sober enough, to keep turning her offer down. The reasons for this, should be obvious, so I will not delve into the nitty gritty. I did drop her off and later at my place, got my ass into my bed, somehow. I woke up to note, I had paid the cabbie more than he deserved, theiving BASTaRD (!!!) and after an afterthought, that involved piecing the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle of the memory of the night, it dawned on me ... gosh, I was nearly raped!! Aw yeah, wtf, I will getting wastOID again this weekend!! :-) frat Boys will be boys ...